Isabella’s Story

Below is another unedited excerpt from my story titled, It Was Her Eyes. It’s a rough draft and likely to be substantially changed by the time my book is published. Though the scenes depicted would probably get a PG-13 or perhaps R rating at theaters, I’ve removed a few lines from this excerpt that might be too racy for some blog readers.

With Love,

Russ

**

I stammered again, “This—you—can’t be real! I must be dreaming!” I began to lean away from her. She looked frantic, unsure what to do, then reached out and slapped my face, hard, so hard my eyes watered. I recoiled, stunned. She blurted in a voice that registered desperation and anger, “Do dreams do that?”

“I rubbed my sore cheek as blood rushed to it, and blinked to clear my eyes. Thoughts bounced around in my head, crashing together as if in a rock tumbler. Gradually I came to my senses and shook my head no, dreams definitely do NOT do that.

“Please listen! We have very little time! Come up here and sit with me!” Her request had the edge of a command. She reached for my hand, and pulled me back onto the chaise. We sat facing each other, our bare knees touching.

She whispered rapidly, barely taking time to catch her breath. “I don’t know how you are here, but thank God that you are. I’m Isabella Hernandez.”

“I’m Travis McKinnon.”

She nodded in acknowledgement, then raced ahead with her story. “About three years ago my father and I were at Mass in our village in Mexico. Several men crashed through the doors shooting and yelling. They grabbed me and three other girls. My father and Padre Alvarez tried to stop them but the men murdered them. I kicked and hit with my fists, and scratched their faces but the men just laughed. Then one hit me on the head.

“When I woke up it was night time and I was tied to a tree with the other girls.

“The men called the biggest one Butch. He was their leader. He yelled, “You can have a little fun with them but I’ll shoot any man who leaves a mark on them. We were hired to bring back beautiful virgins. We’ll be paid much less if you mess ‘em up.”

Isabella continued, “We traveled for about a week. They barely gave any food to us and tied two of us together on horses they stole. A man would pull a horse with two of us on it while others followed to make sure we didn’t escape.

Every night they tied us all together and got more and more bold with how they treated us.  One night one of them started to go too far with one of the other girls. Butch shot him in the face. Blood splattered all over us and we screamed.

“Butch just laughed and told everyone to go to shut up an go to sleep. I thought that would be the worst moment of my life. I was wrong. What we faced when we came here was far worse.

**

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About russtowne

My wife and I have been married since 1979. We have 3 adult children and 4 young grandsons. I manage a wealth management firm I founded in 2003. My Beloved is a Special Education teacher for Kindergartners and First Graders. I'm a published author of 23 books in a variety of genres for grownups and children. In addition to my family, friends, investing, and writing, my passions include reading, watching classic movies, experiencing waves crashing on rocky shores, hiking in ancient redwood forests, and enjoying our small redwood grove and fern garden.
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2 Responses to Isabella’s Story

  1. ksbeth says:

    yikes, it’s getting scary!

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